Page 47 of Lucky Night

Complete honesty, he says. Fine byme.

Good! We’ll take turns. Why didn’t you want to use the minibar?

What?

Earlier. I wanted water, and you were all like, she puffs out her chest, wags a finger,We’re not using the minibar, woman! It’s extortionate!

I don’t sound like that. Also, this is what you want to askme?

For starters, yes.

He stands and walks over to the television. They’ve cut away from the fire to a weather report. Looks like the snow will be stopping soon.

So it’s over. Theirthis. Well, what did he think—it would last forever? They’d be hobbling into hotels into their seventies, eighties, rubbing their desiccated sex organs together in a desperate bid for one last watery orgasm? Jesus no. He didn’t think about it at all. Jenny was always now, an intoxicating present, in both senses of the word. But that’s over. She’s to be relegated to the past, the place where all the good things are.

He’s going to miss her.

He pokes around in the minibar and pulls out two small bottles. He returns to his seat. Bourbon or vodka?

Bourbon, please.

He cracks the cap of hers and hands it across the coffee table. He opens his own, and they each take a swig.

I feel sad after I come, he says. If I’m physically alone. It’s…an emptiness. A loneliness. It passes quickly, but I need whoever—meaning, in this context, you—to stay beside me for a few minutes. So when you leaped out of bed, I wanted you back, and apparently I decided the best way to achieve that was to act like a controlling asshole. That’s the answer.

You couldn’t ask me to stay? Explain it tome?

Jesus, no! That’s not what we do, Jenny. You’re not my therapist, or confessor. I want to come in here and leave my issues, my weaknesses and neuroses, at the door.

It doesn’t really work that way, she says.

It does, he insists. Most of the time it does. And it should. You’re not missing anything. Trust me. You’re getting the good parts.

He toasts her with his tiny bottle and finishes it off.

I didn’t sleep with Juan Pablo, she says.

It’s fine if you did. I have no right—

Oh my God, Nick, knock it off! I didn’t. I know I lie sometimes. Because…well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not lying about this.

He nods. He believes her.

She goes to the minibar and comes back with a package of peanut M&M’s.

I did lie about Juan Pablo’s come-ons, though. She smiles. They weren’t ambiguous at all.

He laughs. Why did you say they were?

I don’t know. He came up in conversation, you somehow guessed things had gotten weird…she sighs. I was embarrassed.

Most women would have bragged. Most women wouldn’t make it through the door of this room without announcing that a hot young Spaniard was desperate to bang them.

Most women wouldn’t come through the door of this room.

Jesus, Jenny, this again? Anyway, I’m not sure I agree.

She sips her bourbon. You think most people cheat?

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